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[Tyra]

I wrote this a good 7 or so years ago. Obviously I'll have to completely drop everything after 3049 (if its remotely possible to RP of course) but I can use the basis still.

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My Uncle told me a story once. Two brothers were lance commanders in the Star League Defense Force, three hundred years ago. One left with Kerensky, the other stayed. I don't know which clan he joined, but it does bring home the fact that the Clans are not some foreign entity, but human beings. Distant cousins...but that doesn't make much difference, I think. I'm probably not the only one to make the connection, when the Clans first showed up.

I was born in space, on the Jumpship Juliana while it recharged on it's trip through Lyran territory. I've held a peculiar fascination with space travel ever since.

I suppose you could say piloting, and war, is in my blood. Pilots in my family go as far back as ancient times, dogfighting in Terra's first World War, so it's not surprising the disappointment I faced from my parents and sisters when I decided I wanted to pilot a 'mech, rather than an aerospace fighter. It didn't help that I'd shown promise on simulators, piloting cruisers and other large craft. Even that would have been more acceptable than being one of those 'disgraceful mechwarriors in their buckets of bolts,' as my father so eloquently said.

When I was seven, the ship we were traveling on suffered a collision, exposing my section of ship into the vacuum. In those brief seconds before I lost consciousness, I got to see the wonders of space, without atmosphere or windows to block the view. When I am in the heat of combat, I use that mental image as my focus.

I've an uncle, a rather eccentric man, who is a genius in the engineering field, and the only family member I keep in contact with. I leave the engineering work up to the boys in overalls, but thanks to my uncle, I've got a good eye for design, and unique solutions.

I think that was how I landed myself in the fire. When I was seventeen, during one of our short-lived attempts to settle down, my family was on New Gettysburg, which had a light 'mech factory. Draconis 'mechs began to drop in, and our small militia was nearly wiped out, and fell back to the factory for a last stand.

My family made their way to the airbase, capturing several fighters, and began using them to harass and distract the advancing lances. It was then that I noticed a seemingly untouched Dragon, and climbed up to investigate.

The cockpit was smeared with blood, and reeked of cooked flesh. Still, I strapped myself in, and powered it up.

I immediately realized that piloting a 'mech was nothing like piloting a fighter, or even a cruiser. So here we had this giant, lumbering battlemech, wobbling it's way towards the rear of the Draconis line. As soon as I opened fire, the other defenders took advantage of the confusion, and routed the attackers.

It was not long before they regrouped, and things looked bleak, until reinforcements arrived, and stopped the attack cold. One of those units was from a Mercenary group employed by Steiner called Snord’s Irregulars. After the battle, they seemed more interested in exploring the countryside than salvaging the spoils. They also seemed interested in me, and I seized the opportunity.

For the next few years I found myself kicking around the galaxy with the oddest assortment of people you could find. I also discovered a little of what they were after. Star League technology. Their museum on Clinton was amazing.

But as much as they traveled around, it wasn’t really enough for the wandering feet I’d inherited, and I had to move on. I’d picked up some valuable skills, and some eccentricities of my own. One can’t spend a good amount of time around the Snord’s without picking up some habits.

I did not leave without one last hurrah. I still remember that battle, though it was a good five years ago. I was still with the Irregulars when they established Camelot Command, and through the battle with Jade Falcon for possession of the facility. Rhonda told us that she had been born in Clan space, and the Wolf’s Dragoons and Snord’s Irregular’s both had been established to spy on the Inner Sphere, yet had elected to fight with us, and not them. I’m still surprised Rhonda could keep a straight face when she responded to the Falcon’s Batchall challenge as ‘Clan Snord.’

I was in Rhonda’s regiment, under the command of a woman named Holly, when the Falcon’s broke through into the bay. Of Holly’s lance, only her and myself made it out of there alive, regrouping with the rest of the Irregulars, and staying our ground until the Falcon’s were forced to surrender.

When I was rotated out and back to Inner Sphere space, I took the chance and departed, albeit reluctantly. I didn’t go alone, however. There was an engineer, a man named Berkley, who was as eccentric as my uncle, and just as good with machines. I don’t think he particularly cared where he was or who he was with, so long as he got to tinker with stuff. Over the years, I’ve lost count of how many configurations I’ve thrown at him, and how many he tossed right back saying were impossible, only to have it up and working the next day. I’m still not sure why he wanted to come with me, but I like listening to the old ****’s stories, and some of the engineers who have been with him for nearly ever decided to tag along as well. I think the combat on Camelot Command might have been a little much for them.

So we wandered around some months, until we ran across the Hellfire Legion. They weren’t much, but hey, I like to go where the money is, and it suits my wanderlust.

[tyrone dunkirk]

That's actually really cool.

[Tyra]

tyrone dunkirk, on 02 November 2011 - 04:53 PM, said:

That's actually really cool.

Thanks

[godzofwar]

any more adventures?